


The Noblewoman, the Servant

by ziraseal



Series: Mara's Influence [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/F, post Edrald Estate quest, post Rivenspire arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziraseal/pseuds/ziraseal
Summary: She really couldn’t leave Arlie. Not when the girl gives her these wide brown eyes and that soft smile.
Relationships: Dulkhi/Arlie Edrald
Series: Mara's Influence [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095476
Kudos: 3





	The Noblewoman, the Servant

Arlie needs a day or two to register what has transpired. Dulkhi understands. She’s become terribly patient, ever since she fell in love with the noble. But the sadness breaks her beyond belief. Confessing one’s love should be a moment of celebration and pride. It is in Orc culture. And, she’s lived long enough in Breton culture to know they feel the same.

Arlie and her family are tired, though, from days spent in the Deadlands. Arlie is even more exhausted, having cried her eyes out a few nights in a row at the loss of her fiancé, Federic.

Dulkhi will give her as long as she needs.

She continues on another bear cloak, just like the one she’d given Arlie. This one is for Krisandra, the matriarch of the house. The woman who practically raised her and had considered her loyal family until the day she learned Dulkhi’s true inclinations towards her daughter. But… how could Dulkhi deny that she felt so strongly for Arlie? How could she deny the days running through the fields of Fell’s Run, sailing off beaches near Orc’s Finger? How could she deny the days they would venture into Shornhelm for balls and banquets? How, despite a room full of new and exciting faces, Dulkhi could only see Arlie?

So, she will appease Krisandra, as best she can. It’s unspoken, but Allan, Arlie’s father, supports Dulkhi. He just wants the girls to be happy. He doesn’t care that an Orc has fallen in love with his Breton daughter, and he doesn’t seem to be upset at the notion that Dulkhi is a servant, at that. So, she’ll make him a cloak, out of good faith, but it doesn’t need to be nearly as extravagant as the one needed to please Krisandra. Perhaps a small fox pelt cape, like the sort in Solitude fashion circles. 

The servant is glad she’s stayed. The Edrald estate gives her a solid roof over her head. She cooks the meals for the family, and gets to eat better scraps than she could ever find in Moira’s Hope or Hoarfrost Downs. And all her friends are just across the river.

And she really couldn’t leave Arlie. Not when the girl gives her these wide brown eyes and that soft smile.

“I need time to consider this, but… that’s not a no,” Arlie had said.

It was enough, for now.

Federic had pulled Dulkhi aside before he’d left, too, and offered his blessing. It was extremely uncommon for people to be in a relationship with more than one person around these parts, but not unheard of. He was willing to give it a go, to allow Arlie and Dulkhi the love they’d been building for almost a decade. And he’d given Dulkhi a hug, at that. She was glad, as it seemed he was the sort of person Arlie had fallen for without the sway of money or standing.

He might get a cloak, too, if he got on her good side.

It’s late, tonight, and they’re going to Shornhelm in a few days to witness the coronation of the new Queen. She has to finish sewing a fine Summerset silk into the bear’s fur but the candlelight flicker and the light pattering of rain begins to droop her eyes. The burn on her thigh from the dremora of the Deadlands also makes her want to crawl into bed for a few years.

A knock. Two knocks.

Dulkhi stands with a groan. It might be Allan or Krisandra, asking her to wake up early the next morning to tidy all the overturned furniture of the manor. It will be an awful lot of work to get the place running in decent shape again.

But no, it’s Arlie.

“Hey there,” her employer sighs, standing just in the doorway to avoid the rain, but not quite stepping inside.

It dawns on Dulkhi that she’s awaiting permission. The Orc slowly moves, pressing her back against her bookcase to allow the noblewoman entry into her small servant’s quarters. The place is fairly tidy, despite all that had happened. She’d been smart enough to lock it before everything, whereas the Edrald Estate had been completely ransacked by looters.

Arlie doesn’t even hesitate, sitting down on the bed.

It relaxes Dulkhi somewhat, as though they’re children again, playing before bedtime. Though they’re much older, and so much has transpired since then. Trust has been broken, walls have been let down and quickly rebuilt, with the shoddy craftsmanship of wounded emotions.

“It’s been a strange week, hasn’t it?”

“More than strange. I don’t think I ever want to set foot in a Daedric realm again,” Dulkhi sighed. “Not even Malacath’s realm.”

“Malacath has a realm?” Arlie asks with concern.

“I think they all have realms.”

Arlie rolls her eyes and flops on the bed. It annoys Dulkhi a little, not because Arlie has done anything wrong but because the Orc is so confused at her own emotions. What does she do? Does she continue on her sewing and idly chat with her friend as though nothing has happened? Does she dare talk to Arlie about the magnetism between them? Does she ask the spoiled noblewoman to leave her quarters so that she can finally get some sleep for the first time since she realized her true feelings?

Instead of doing any of that, Dulkhi slowly sits down on the edge of the bed. Her hand comes to rest on Arlie’s calf.

The noblewoman doesn’t respond for a few moments, staring up at the wooden ceiling and, presumably, attempting to decide the next course of action. Dulkhi just wants to kiss her, by the Gods she wants to kiss her. But she waits.

Instead, Arlie sits upright.

“Would you like to go into town tomorrow? Maybe we could go to The Run Inn for supper and get some wine?”

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that,” Dulkhi says.

Most Orcs have a nervous tick, where they run their tongue along their tusks. Bad habit, but she realizes as she’s doing it that Arlie is staring at her mouth.

“And… I wanted to express something in case it was lost in all the stress that’s happened. We will probably be getting new servants. You’ll be receiving a proper notice from my father in a week.”

“I… I see.”

Arlie’s brown eyes widen, “Not because you’re a bad servant, Dulkhi, you are wonderful! You’re an extremely talented worker and you do everything you do with such passion! I just… if we’re together I don’t want to be your employer, it would be wrong. My parents feel the same way. We can help you get a job in Fell’s Run and you can stay in this house, but I don’t want you to wait on me and be the person I… well… you know.”

It’s more than Dulkhi could ever hope for. It’s practically a confession, and she feels her heart soaring higher than the Doomcrag or the Crypts in the distance, high above the rainclouds and into the stars themselves. Arlie takes her hand, and leans forward to kiss her on the cheek, right on her left tusk.

She wants to turn and capture Arlie’s lips, but not yet.

Maybe tomorrow morning, she’ll cross the river and pay Menwirchel the barkeep to set aside the finest Alinor wine and a feast of roasted Bosmer cuisine. Maybe even a private room with a table and candlelight and a dwindling fire.

She knows that Arlie doesn’t really need that. Arlie is a romantic, sure, but practical. But Dulkhi’s been given her second chance and she’ll do everything she can to prove that she’ll be a wonderful girlfriend to the noblewoman.

Girlfriend. What a fantastic word.


End file.
